Happy Ending
by Elizabeth Rowland
Summary: After the war, Hermione muses on what has happened and what may still happen. Rating just to be safe. Please review, it's polite to do so.


Happy Ending

Happy ending. I've always thought of that phrase as somewhat of an oddity. In a film, the defeat of the 'bad guys' is seen as a happy ending. But there is no doubt that someone watching the film would see their cause as worthy or would find them to be by far more likable than the 'good guy'. And so, to a few individuals, the ending would not be happy.

That was the case with the war. The side of the light triumphed over the Dark Lord. So was that it? Was that a happy ending? The kind of story that ends with "and they lived happily ever after"?

No. Not for me. You see, I knew the Dark Lord. My friends were his followers and that supposedly evil man was like a father to me. Kind and caring when all I had received before had been cold encouragement with regards to my work.

And now he is dead.

Gone from the world, leaving me behind. Leaving his apprentice. Oh how I miss him.

At first I was meant to be a spy. The so called side of the light sent me to him in the slim hopes that I would not be killed on sight, to join him so that I may glean some information that could be used to destroy him. He almost did kill me. But something stopped him. It would be three years before he told me why he accepted my pledge, before he told me why he spared my life.

I reminded him of the mother he used to dream of. With my caring but strong nature. My protective tendencies. Even my appearance was a close match. Wild curly hair, petite, kindness in my eyes and patience in my stance. He couldn't kill me, not even if I gave him an overly valid reason.

There was one problem though. He knew my purpose there. He knew my purpose and yet did not turn me away. Instead he offered me a position that would render me neutral in the war. Untouchable by either side. He offered me a place as his apprentice. So that his knowledge might live on should he die. He gave me a week to think about it, but I gave my answer within seconds. My only problem with the arrangement was that I would be forced to watch my friends die and not be able to do anything about it. Would I be able to do that? As it turns out, when you are watching one friend try to kill another, indecision over which one you should help is quite adequate enough to keep you in place, as I discovered.

To look at the world now, those who died in the early stages of the war would think that he had won. It was a hell. A hell where there was distrust at every turn. Discrimination pouring from every mouth, no matter the age. A seven year old had shouted mudblood at me in the street not so long ago. It was disgusting to hear such a profanity come from one so young.

I miss him now. I wish that I could talk with him. He was always so good at making me feel better. Making me feel like there was something worth living for. I miss his soft words, I miss his silent presence, I even miss that vile, sadistic part of him that would come out whenever there was Dark Arts in the air. But most of all I miss the father that he had become to me.

Some people say that the only man a girl can ever truly depend on is her father. That seemed true enough to me once I found the man I wished had been my father. Unlike Harry and Ron he was never disappointed, and he never disappointed me.

So where is my happy ending? I'm hoping that it will find me soon. For now, I'm six months pregnant and on the run with my husband, Draco Malfoy. We worry for the child. We worry that we won't be able to look after her, for we know it's a girl. It's in her aura. We have spoken about having her adopted. We know that would be the best thing for her, but I can't imagine giving her up. Not now, not ever.

She shows me her dreams when Draco and I can stay in one place long enough to let her. She has the oddest dreams. So flooded with colour she has stolen from my memories, like she can't seem to brighten her dark world enough.

We still don't know what to call her. Something tells me it will be a name plucked from history. It's an interest of Dracos' and apparently a tradition of his family, to inspire greatness. Though according to him it rarely works.

We're leaving the country in three days, hoping to find somewhere away from this cursed soil to start a new life where no one has heard of either of us. Draco has somehow managed to keep hold of his family's assets so we're going to his home in Romania, to raise our child there. I'm not sure what to do with all I've learned.

Though his knowledge has lived on in me, I don't know if I have the heat to pass it on to anyone else. Perhaps in time, when I have found my happy ending, though no doubt it would be a disappointment to many in my home land. No matter that neither I nor Draco killed anyone. No matter that we did not break any laws. All that matters is that we were close to him. That we both bare his mark, black on our left forearms now that the magic which allows them to fade away is as dead as its' creator. Surly killing us would hurt this dead villain.

I shake my head as Draco sits behind me and wraps me in his arms, placing a gentle hand on my swollen stomach.

"Do you think we will find a happily ever after in Romania?" I ask, he tightens his hold on me, burying his face in my curls.

"Nothing is certain Hermione. Nothing. But if we find safety for our daughter, that will be a happy enough ending for me."

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**A/N** Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Let me know via review. And I reply to every review I get so feel free to ask any questions. 


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